Reaching Out… What A Fucking Joke

**POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING**

I’ve reached a point in my mental health journey where I’m DONE. I’m not saying this lightly. I’m also not saying anything to seek attention. I’m just speaking. Period. It’s extremely important to be honest when discussing matters, such as this. 

I’m sick of people, their snide, ignorant  comments, the stigma of the uneducated, and I’m tired of all the excuses and bad behavior. I’m a human-being and I don’t want or need, “shiny, happy people” talking down to me. Who the fuck do some people think they are? 😠 At any given moment, you can be stricken, same as me. No one is immune.

In the past year, I have reached my maximum number of failed medications at around forty. Yes, you read that correctly. Forty drugs from the start of my original diagnosis, which was incorrect, until a month ago, when the final drug failed and made me wish I would just stop trying altogether. It was pointless. Perhaps I am, too.

I felt completely dead inside before starting this medication. I went into it 1000% unsure because I was preparing myself for the 50/50 possibility. This medication was an enormous risk. The failure of it made me sink. I looked around for quick sand, hoping it would swallow me up. I was, and still am, SO angry that this was other people’s “miracle medication” that gave them back some semblance of normalcy, if not restoring their lives entirely, but for me, it was yet another epic fail. If you heard me say this, you’d know I’m saying it flatly, with no inflection whatsoever. Speaking about it does not make me a “victim”; it just makes me extremely honest.

facebook_1564872001338

I’m SO unbelievably sick of people saying, “I’m here for you.”, or, “If I can help, just ask.” 🙄 I’m sorry, did I just roll my eyes out loud? Yeah, probably.

If you’re, “here for me”, then I would actually be seeing you or talking to you semi-regularly. If you want to help, find something within your means and do it. I am not in the correct headspace to give you an itemized list of “things that will help”.

When someone has the flu, you might bring them soup, juice, magazines, etc. Things to help them feel better or things to distract them from how awful they feel. Or maybe that’s just me. Why do people need a guide for everything they can research? For all the advanced technological access at our disposal, people never cease to amaze me with their utter laziness.

I feel ZERO comfort in reaching out, and I’m so sick of the word, “No.” when I do ask for help. I’m constantly being told I don’t know how to ask for help. I do, and asking is one dead-end at a time. I have stopped asking because I don’t have the trust to offer up anymore. I am not going around begging for people to care about me or what I’m going through. Because here’s the truth; “reaching out” is a fucking joke. If a person cares, they will reach out to you. And if they don’t, you have to understand that the majority of people have their heads shoved so far up their own ass, they can’t see a damn thing. Their world and yours do not mesh, and that’s okay. Rid yourself of those who do not come into your life on your frequency. You’re trying to grow and better yourself, and sometimes, that means growing apart.

facebook_1564947530449

In a world completely obsessed with social media, I decided to scale back quite a bit. By doing so, people did reach out to me, but ONLY so they could complain about things they’re going through. 🤦 It was very much a, “Are you okay?” and quickly became, “Because I have a lot to tell you.”, which made my head spin. It also made me angrier than a hornets nest after it has been kicked.

Why? Because the messages came from acquaintances, not my hardcore group of friends. I was put off by it, which might be slightly irrational, but I’m not going to sugarcoat how it made me feel.

If someone is expecting to see, “ALL of my posts” via social media, I’m mostly on Instagram these days. Some of those posts make it to Facebook, and some do not. It’s not the end of the damn world!

Whatever happened to asking a person directly, like a normal human-being? A phone call? A text? WhatsApp? Facebook Messenger? There’s more than one way to get in touch and stay in touch. Of course, you’d first have to prove you care and earn my trust to have access to my phone number for some of those methods of communication, but others are rather simple. 

img_20190803_183918_840

In the past year, I had a now former friend medication shame me. I was beyond suicidal at the time. I’m not sure if anyone knew, aside from my doctor. I wasn’t exactly shy about it, though. I was SO hurt by her comments about how I, “should stop taking that poison.” Yes, those were her exact words. If she tries to deny it, I have proof of her stupidity. I have her blocked on social media now because a REAL friend stands by you; they don’t judge.

This comment threw me for a loop. I read the initial message rule out in public, and I was incredibly insulted and hurt by it. Here I was, trusting her, and divulging something extremely painful, and she’s criticizing me. The ugliness of the comment is similar to telling a cancer patient to, “You should stop chemo. It’s poison.” 😠 No one does that though, do they? No, because they want their loved one to LIVE, to “beat cancer”. Apparently, people judge harshly when it’s medication they themselves have NEVER experienced.

Does anyone understand or realize that medication is often the difference between life and death for millions of people? I would NEVER tell someone to “Stop taking that poison.”, unless they were talking about street drugs, in which case I think we can ALL safely agree that it’s wise to get clean.

Instead of compassion, she showed me she’s an extremely ugly person, inside and out, which should have been the final nail in her coffin. Alas, when I schooled her, she didn’t apologize. Instead, she dug herself even deeper with her complete ignorance regarding depression and how it affects people. She went so far as to brag. “I’m ALWAYS HAPPY.”, she declared. Having written a character reference to a judge on her behalf, as she fought for sole custody of her youngest child, I beg to fucking differ, but I guess she’s not going to ever speak the truth because she refuses to see herself clearly. Denial is not just a river in Egypt. 😒

I don’t care what a friend comes to me with, they will NEVER hear me say, “I don’t know anything about it.” Let’s say I didn’t. On occasion it happens, but it takes less than ten minutes to educate yourself. That’s WHY we utilize search engines. Part of growth means constantly educating yourself. At least it does where I come from.

How is ANYONE over the age of twenty-five going through daily life without ANY knowledge about mental health? Please, elaborate. It’s 2019, and there are ZERO excuses for that level of ignorance. It’s inexcusable.

“Stop taking that poison.” Um, you admitted repeatedly that you guzzle down bottles of wine because you’re stressed, sad, not to mention, in compete denial of your true self, but medication is poison? Okay, wise one. 🙄 And by all means, FUCK OFF with your low level thought process. You’re not, “enlightened”; you’re fake and a complete fraud. I’m so glad to be rid of your drama, self-absorbed attitude, and your negativity.

Having me as a friend is something you should respect and appreciate because I don’t play games. You screw with me and my loyalty will become loyalty to myself, NOT to you.

img_20190807_132449_535

Another now former friend was self-harming and as a result, extremely horrible things happened. I will not disclose the deeply private pain shared with me because I’m better than that. Yes, I’m angry as hell and would cheerfully share her name, address, and phone number, but again; I AM BETTER THAN THAT.

I proactively encouraged her to seek help. I was constantly consulted for advice regarding doctors, therapists, and medication. I could go back into my phone log app and count EVERY single phone call I took when I should have been sleeping, because apparently MY well-being was never more important than her incessant dialing.

I called various mental health clinics (from across the country) to see if they took her insurance. That, my dear readers, is a TRUE friend. I’ve gotta say, no one has EVER tried to help me like that, and truthfully, I’m smart enough not to allow myself to get to that point of no return.

Everything changed after all my guidance, though.  I probably saved her life, but she thinks her part-time boyfriend is, and I quote, “Superman”. 🙄 You can think like that when you’re in single digits, but if you’re over twenty-five and have divulged an extremely abusive, manipulative, narcissistic relationship, one I witnessed in person, but you stay, then maybe, just maybe, you’re getting what you deserve because you aren’t smart enough to see things clearly, and you wrongly assume that a smart friend saying something about it automatically means that woman is jealous. Unless you live next door to a flagship Ulta, believe me when I say I’d NEVER be jealous of anything, and lately, even Ulta has lost its shine for me.

If you’re suffering, but have time to complain about how, “I gained fifteen pounds in a month.” because of depression medication, then maybe you need to sort out your priorities. I offered a list of medications where weight gain wasn’t a side effect. How did it turn out? I don’t fucking know. When a friend begs for your time and then blows you off, it’s perfectly acceptable to be silent until they apologize. It was her responsibility to make sure she didn’t permanently damage or destroy a long-term friendship. She didn’t make an effort whatsoever, though. That was her choice. Instead, she took the time one random Monday morning to “unfriend me” over a year later. Precisely who is the immature one here? I actually laughed. No one has to follow me on social media, and a real friend doesn’t announce it after years of calling you at all hours and pretending to love you like a sister. I decided this person was SO far gone that I wasn’t going to engage in the attention-seeking behavior they crave because she desperately needs this attention in order to feel “whole”. Except, the feeling is fleeting, and she will keep doing whatever it takes to get more. I should feel bad for her, but once I’m done, I’m DONE. I don’t give people the opportunity to come back, either. Friendship is a gift and a choice. If you throw it away, that’s on you.

facebook_1565410201282

When I started taking medication for depression, I gained over 250 pounds in two years. It wasn’t from food, it was a side effect of drugs forced upon me, because hospitalization was always a threat if you didn’t take the medication prescribed to you. I underwent a lot of blood tests to show where my medication levels were and they NEVER reached “therapeutic levels”, mostly because they weren’t the correct medications for what I truly suffer from. I’m under 5.4″ and I’m a former gymnast. Doctors didn’t care about the weight gain, they just kept pushing drugs at me. Some of these drugs will threaten everything you hold dear before you finally put a stop to it. But now, EVERYTHING is blamed on your weight. Sore throat? You should lose weight. Ear infection? Well, you need to lose weight. Migraines? Lose weight. Unexplainable chronic pain from head to toe? I was told I should get down to “sixty pounds” to be pain free. Yeah, I’d also be dead, but the doctor repeated it three times because I gave him the opportunity to self correct his words. He just kept repeating it, like he was the smartest person in the world. I should have punched him in the throat.

Over the past eleven years, I’ve gotten closer to my goal weight. I KNOW I can achieve the final goals and have lifelong results/benefits, but I’m sick of women being negative over five, ten, fifteen, or twenty-five pounds. I understand it being frustrating, but calling yourself, “fat” is ugly and unhealthy for the mind. When people constantly do it in front of me, I automatically wonder what they say about me behind my back. Unlike many people, I don’t judge my friends based on looks, age, skin color, country of origin, education level, or weight. I’m selective; not petty. I treat my friends the same way I’d want them to treat me, and rarely am I treated as I deserve.

When I hear your self-talk and criticism, I question what you say to and about me.  I have about sixty pounds to go. It seems like a lot more on a smaller frame, but whenever I hear, “You REALLY have SUCH a beautiful face.”, it’s actually a backhanded comment about how I’d be so much prettier if I was a size zero. Zero isn’t a fucking size, not unless you’re a supermodel and play into that bullshit. Even newborns aren’t born a size zero! My NYC hair stylist disagrees with this, and once explained that my face shape (Which is oval.) is the perfect shape for a woman to have because it means every haircut will look good with her facial features. I don’t know that I agree with him, but he’s never tried to bullshit me. He’s also the only person I can trust to take me from my natural hair color to blonde in less than six hours. 

However, my main point is that you aren’t going to physically be 13, 14, 15, or 16 years old for the rest of your life. Jeez, I thought I was “fat” then, and I wasn’t. At all. Our bodies change. Our hormones change. We all age differently. But I’m not okay with hideous negativity and societal pressures. And I’m REALLY not okay with “friends” who have, “first world problems”.

Your health is your wealth. Weight should NOT be what you’re focused on when you REALLY need the medication keeping you alive. It can be a goal when you’re feeling stable, not before.

facebook_1565714419217

I called my doctor late last month, wondering if he’d noticed that I’d cancelled on him. I legitimately do NOT cancel or miss appointments, even when I would much prefer to remove my eyeballs first. When he called me back, he said he trusts me to know when I need to come in and when I don’t. So, he clearly didn’t hear what I was saying, either. I won’t lie; I didn’t call him back because I was annoyed. I could easily slip back into not seeing someone for a year, or three. I told him that at my most recent appointment. Not only did he give me extra time, which he didn’t have to do, but he was in agreement with me about severing ties with a therapist who wasted a year of my life by being useless, and that’s me being civil. I’ve grown and I’ve changed, but she was not a part of any of that growth. I’m disgusted beyond words by her treatment of me.

I cancelled my final appointment with her because I knew I’d walk in, “hot”, and that means I knew my temper would flare into flames. I knew she could not accept the truth, so I decided that I don’t require closure in this particular matter. I decided that my sanity was more important than telling her what a useless sack of skin she is. I decided that insulting her and telling her how much her, “help” did NOT help, wasn’t worth me losing my temper. However, her one star rating on Healthgrades makes me feel better.

Will I go back to therapy? I don’t know. My doctor is going to do a deep search of all hospital employees and see who knows who. He knows if he screws up a third time, I’ll paint his office hot pink while he’s on vacation.

Have I reached out to anyone about what I’m going through? No. After recounting my father’s fifteen year battle with cancer to my best friend, who was unaware of all I’d gone through, I found myself in tears. I’m not generally an emotional person, meaning I don’t cry, unless it’s something serious, and even then, I might not. My reactions to things that bother and upset most people are not the reaction anyone is looking for, so I keep my mouth shut. And yet, I’ve written over three thousand words here, explaining myself when I don’t owe anyone an explanation.

Those of you who reach out with messages and comments, and thank me for writing things like this mean a LOT to me. If my words help you confront your pain, then that’s a positive takeaway.

img_20190811_175351_227

Ultimately, mental health is a personal, painful journey. It’s a road often taken solo, for obvious reasons. Support may come easy for many of you, but for me? Well, I’m lucky to be a force to be reckoned with. It was my mother’s wish for me, and my strength is deeply engrained in who I am. Sometimes, I just need to remind myself who the fuck I am and where I come from. Hopefully, someone reading this will understand EVERY word.

Also, we don’t lose friends. We simply learn who our TRUE friends really are.

img_20190813_142358_029

Copyright © 2019 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Written work by author may not be shared or posted anywhere without express written consent from the author. Excerpts and quotes from the material also require consent. This authors’ work and personal photos are protected under U.S. and International copyright laws. Further protection is under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

The Psychological Impact Of Having To Ask For Help

https://themighty.com/2017/05/mecfs-psychological-impact-asking-for-help-illness/

I think this is so important for people to read and understand. Last weekend I was asked why I was pushing myself so hard. Here’s the answer: No one else knows precisely how I do things, and no one else knows how difficult it is for me to get these things done. They don’t have to live with my pain for a second. I’d prefer to blame myself, and only myself, if there is a missing item or a mistake made (I made a big mistake a few weeks ago and had to return two items that I would normally NEVER screw up, but all it took for me was stress, distraction, and a single moment of feeling overwhelmed.).

I may have horrible days, like today, when I did have to ask for help, but there are many 10+ pain level days when I force myself to grocery shop and run errands because no one else will ever be as thorough as I am. Yes, it bothers me, but I don’t have much choice. When I DO ask for help, people act like I just asked for ten million dollars, so I don’t accept help any more unless someone offers and I feel the offer is genuine.

 

I Refuse To Change

doyoumeantotellmeAfter taking a couple of days to rest from overdoing it, I am back on my grind today. While going through a box that I never unpacked from my original move (because nothing inside it was overly important), I found a ton of missing CD’s. I reorganized that box for its intended purpose, took the CD’s out, and I’m boxing up music. I added some songs to my media library since I will be putting the majority of my music into storage initially. You know how there’s always that one song you miss? I was happy to find a few. But I’m also debating tossing things I don’t want to move with, heavy things that seem kind of pointless, but then I have a moment where I think “Shouldn’t you at least have the opportunity to go through all of this stuff before deciding to toss it or not? Okay, so it’s a few extra boxes and it will take hours to go through every single item and make a decision, but if you’re throwing away solid memories, maybe it should wait. If you’re questioning it, then now is not the time to toss it.”

How is it that “stuff” emotionally neuters us at times? In life, we build memories and sometimes, memories captured are difficult to part with. The more I pause, the more I feel like nothing is getting done and I’m working on a very tight deadline.

To add insult to injury, I have absolutely no clue how this move is going to take place. I’ve had two “helpers” back out in the last few days. No explanations, just flat-out back out or say one thing, and then say they couldn’t or wouldn’t help. I need someone to drive a 26 foot truck, so I asked the one person in my life who is a professional driver. It’s not like he has someplace to be the following day. I’d never ask someone to take off from work to help me move, but naturally, there are going to be kinks along the way. I was then left with the second task: I need to transport Cat and Kitten and all the delicate items in a separate vehicle. I legitimately need help. I can’t take them and leave them in a situation they’re not familiar with and them come back and do everything else before I have to be out, so I am frustrated and more than a little pissed off. Ultimately, I have no choice but to keep packing, but not knowing with solid certainty where I’m going due to these issues is upsetting me greatly. And yes, I have thought of so many options and no one is willing to say “I can help you out that weekend, it’s not a problem.” Mind you, they’d all come to me in a heartbeat for the smallest thing, but my asking for help is somehow wrong. Note to self: Trade family members into slavery. Buy Porsche Cayenne with the money you make from the trade. (I’m only partially kidding.)

The larger insult that I was slammed with the other day was basically being told that I don’t have enough friends. It was an incredibly rich statement based on who it came from, but it pissed me off nonetheless because it was thoughtless, insensitive, and rude. How many “friends” does one need? Do I need a fucking sorority house to satisfy someone else’s idea of how I should be, or am I good with just a few close friends?

I do not grant friendship easily. My friendship is a genuine, loyal, breathing organism. It is fully committed and quite frankly, most women don’t know how to be friends like that. I don’t need falseness in my life and I don’t need to be a joiner to be a good person and be content. Anyone who thinks I need to change the core of who I am needs to realize that Fibromyalgia is with me 24/7. Eventually, people stop asking you to do things when you can barely get out of bed and do the most basic things for yourself, so why would I want to put myself in the situation of opening up to absolute strangers who haven’t earned their place in my life? I’m a grown woman, and the last thing I need in this world is to be told how to be or that there’s something about me that needs to change because it’s imperfect. I have two words as an answer: FUCK THAT.

I am who I am. I am ENOUGH. Anyone who disagrees needs to mind their own business, keep their opinions to themselves, or get the hell out of my way.

I only apologize if I’ve truly done something wrong. Being myself is NOT wrong.

So, to the person that feels I need to be “changed”, I strongly suggest you take a good look in the mirror and change some of your own behavioral patterns. I don’t change friends daily the way you change socks, and that is a quality to be admired, not disrespected as you did. The fact that you look down upon it is quite sickening.

The cherry on top: I’ve had a migraine since yesterday afternoon. I was legitimately in bed before 4:00 PM. At some point, my body will inform me that it needs more rest and I am going to do my best to give it what it needs. Unfortunately, moving and self-care don’t exactly mesh well. 😦 I’d love to just lie in bed and read a book today or tomorrow. I am going to try to squeeze in chapters of Trigger Mortis here and there before I leave. Worst case scenario: I’m unable to finish it.

On the plus side, I am truly grateful for the people who have stepped up and assisted in both large and small ways, regardless of the miles between us. That means so much to me, to have that level of support. Sadly, I wish it was a team of ten people at the moment helping me with all this crap instead of a handful making me feel like crap.

Life, my friends, is not for the faint of heart. Treat people the way you want to be treated.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

weallneed

Defining Your Issues

1012861_759603974059228_1232059317364800265_n

Defining Your Issues

It’s taken me a long time to admit that my biggest issue is asking for help. I get in over my head and then I drown because I never, ever expect to be rescued by anyone. I am the kind of woman who has always rescued herself. Unfortunately, the past two years of my life have proven that sometimes, I feel like I don’t have any pride left.

There is an expression “You can never be too strong.” Yes, you can. Being “too strong”, for me, means that I would rather die than ask for help. 99% of the people in my life have hurt, betrayed, lied, stolen from, and/or abandoned me. People who are supposed to be there for you no matter what are often the ones that will fail you in the worst of times, and after a while, you stop turning in any other direction, except inward. You don’t ever sit around thinking “If only someone would help me through this…” No, you’ve always had the skills to dig yourself out of the crap you get into. Unfortunately, you find yourself angrier than a starving lion with no kill in sight when you realize that there is no Prince or Princess Charming coming on a white horse to rescue you. You’ve always done for yourself, it’s how you were raised, and you have issues breaking free from that.

I am the kind of person that actually means “Thank You.” when she says it. It’s not just polite, pretty words. If a person holds a door for you, especially in this day and age, saying thank you is a prerequisite, but you’d be surprised how many people will walk right past you when you’re holding a door and say absolutely nothing.

When someone steps up and says “I’ve got this.” or “I’ve got you.”, it feels like an Angelic Blessing to me. Right now, I need an enormous Blessing, but I just don’t feel like my prayers are being heard. I am 100% DONE. I’m done making an effort, being a good person, being a good friend, being an upstanding citizen, and taking care of things and people when it’s not my responsibility. I’m just plain DONE. I am tired of the injustice, I am tired of being told “Sorry Ma’am”, I am tired of the lies we are told about who to go to, and who will help us in bad times. Moreover, unless I am visibly over 75 years old, I should be allowed to punch you in the face until I see blood whenever someone deigns to call me Ma’am. I don’t care who you are and if you think it’s good manners, because I find it incredibly rude. You never know how badly a person needs your assistance, or how you would feel if the situations were reversed, so be kind to people when they ask for it, not dismissive and rude. Don’t ever presume you are doing them a favor by being rude, because all it does is make them angry.

I’m Lisa and my biggest problem is asking for help. I wouldn’t worry, I won’t be asking for it ever again.

P.S. NO, this is not a suicide note. Even if it were, I can count the people who would attend my funeral on one hand.

copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED